Thorstar: Shrovetide
by ChristenedInBlood
Summary: A Prequel to 'On the Origin of Species' and 'the Descent of Man'. Takes place centuries after 'My Death'. Copenhagen 1902: Thorstar wants to stay in bed, but Kol has other ideas.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

(Sunday February 9th 1902)

The Winter was exceptionally cold, which proved to be quite challenging for Thorstar as he'd had to pretend to be cold in his constant company of humans. His roommate at the Collegium Regium, called _Regensen_, Vilhelm Buhl; a law student, liked to burn the midnight oil and sat at his desk, day and night, teeth chattering, wrapped in blankets and writing political letters to the editors of all the local newspapers in Copenhagen.

They didn't exactly get along. They were both Socialists, yes, but Vilhelm was an evolutionary and Thorstar a revolutionary, ... enough said. If Thorstar had known Vilhelm would serve as Prime Minister for a few short months in 1945 for the _Liberation Government _after WWII, maybe he would've rolled his eyes a little less often at him. But probably not.

Regensen, where they lived, was the oldest residentual college at the University of Copenhagen. It was home to talented, but underprivileged students. The foundation behind the College provided them with free housing and scholarships, but unfortunately not with much heating during the winter months, which unfortunately made some students burn their books in desperation.

Thorstar woke early in the morning, the rising sun sending a warm glowing light into their small room on the second floor, but he knew it was colder than Hell as there was frost on his blanket. He looked up to see Vilhelm sitting by his desk as always, giving Thorstar a long examining look.

It quickly became very uncomfortable. "What?" he snapped.

"It's not clouding, "Vilhelm said.

He blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your breath, "Vilhelm clarified. "It's not clouding." He exhaled slowly, his breath showing as a white, transperant cloud.

"Oh, I must be too cold, "Thorstar explained vaguely, drawing the blankets up over his head. He took a couple of seconds to turn on his heartbeat and he immediately started shaking uncontrollably in the freezing dorm room.

'How the Hell do humans live through this day and night for months?' he thought. 'How have _I_ ever done it?'

Vilhelm took out his pocket watch, sighed and got up to light a fire in the stove, which meant it was now after seven. As the heat slowly spread, Thorstar fell back into a slumber. Vilhelm and he were both ungodly creatures, who stubbernly ignored the sound of the church bells on Sunday mornings. Unfortunately the Student Church was right next door and around nine they could usually hear the other students drag their feet down the hallways and staircases on their way to service at the _Trinitatis _churchby the Round Tower.

But this Sunday, Thorstar never made it that far. After an hour of sleep, only occasionally disturbed by the scribbling of Vilhelm's pen, an insistant voice called out: "_Tore_?"

It took him a couple of seconds to realize that meant him. He had taken Astronomy classes at the University about 150 years earlier as Thorstar Hansen. This time he used the name Tore Eliassen. Just in case, though he did not believe they kept records dating that far back. The real problem now where the photographs. He had to avoid any student photography or he could never again return to the University.

"Tore?" Vilhelm repeated with badly hidden amusement in his voice.

"What?!" Thorstar's eyes sprung open and he did a double take as a very familar face was hovering inches above his own. "For the love of God, Kol!"

"Hejsan!" Kol greeted him in Swedish, not having kept his Danish up to date. "Hur mår du*?"

"Fine." Thorstar answered dissmissively, much more interested in Kol's colourful headwear. "What the Hell is that?"

"It's Shrovetide, mate, "Kol answered cheerfully, switching to an English that sounded a bit more British than last time they met.

"And you're supposed to be?"

"A jester." Kol shook his head and the tiny bells on his hat tinkled. "What else?"

Thorstar snorted. "Of course."

"I've got one for you as well." Kol took his bag from the floor and pulled out a mass of green and yellow fabric. His own costume was in green and red.

Thorstar touched it lightly. I wasn't made of the cheap cotton the other students used for their costumes. It was made of fine-spun wool. He gave Kol a surprised look. "Are these tailor-made?"

Kol grinned widely at him. "Of course."

"Alright, "Thorstar wanted to comment on the stupidity of such unnecessary extravagance, but decided against it. He turned off his heartbeat before setting his feet down on the cold stone-floor. "But I'm not in the mood for the parade."

Kol and himself loose in Copenhagen on Quinquagesima Sunday usually resulted in a lot of angry housewives, who found their underwear hanging from lampposts. Or their brandy bottles drained and filled with water, which was a thousand times worse. They were Danes - they'd been drinking since the beginnig of time without as much as coming up for air. Every celebration, every break, every new day was an opportunity to get totally and utterly hammered.

"There's a party at Lorry." Kol waited patiently, while Thorstar dressed in first his woollen pants and sweater and then pulled on the jester costume. "It starts at two."

"I guess we have about five hours to kill then." He donned the hat with a strangely dignified expression on his face. If there was one thing he and Kol had in common, it was their shared inability to feel embarrassed. Quite frankly, it could never get too ridiculous or too absurd. At least not when they were together.

"So, what do you want to do?" They regarded each other expectantly for a minute, each waiting for the other to make some outrageous suggestion that would seriously brighten up the day.

"You want to play Possum?" Kol finally suggested.

"What's that?" Thorstar already felt a little excited. This had to be stupid. It just _had _to.

"Elementary." Kol folded his hands, looking strangely pious. But just for a second as it was against everything he believed in. "We climb into a tree, drink as much as we can and the one, who falls out first, loses."

Thorstar bit his lower lip, searching for a way to make it even more stupid. "That's not quite far enough for us to fall, "he finally stated.

Kol frowned. "What do you suggest?"

"Not tree, but the Round Tower**."

Kol smiled. "Deal."

Vilhelm looked up as they walked past him, quite oblivious as he did not understand a word of English, but somehow aware enough to be suspicious. "Where are you going?"

"Round Tower, "Thorstar gave him a reassuring smile.

Vilhelm bend over his papers again, scribbling enthusiastically. "Oh, that's nice, "he said complacently.

Kol snorted. "Yeah, you would think, wouldn't you?"

Thorstar literally kicked him out of the door, before he could say anything else.

*Hur mår du? (Swedish): How are you (feeling)?

**The Round Tower (Rundetaarn) of Copenhagen is (only) about 34 metres tall.


	2. Chapter 2

**tvpdspnislife: **Heh, thanks. And I'm never far away:) I didn't plan on posting anything today, but I'm still feeling a bit guilty for being away for so long, so here's a bit more.

Chapter 2.

Thorstar pressed a hand against his mouth. He had a stomach full of warm elderberry soup and one and a half bottles of brandy on top of that. Apparently those two did _not_ go well together.

Kol read his expression. "If you throw up, you lose, "he said cheerfully, swaying back and forth over the long drop to the cobblestoned street below, not just because he was drunk, but because he knew the movement made Thorstar feel even more queasy.

The had ducked under the barrier and were sitting on the metal railing that circled the top of the tower. Thorstar glanced toward the ground and for a second he felt like it was rushing up to meet him. He quickly looked away as his stomach flipped.

The fall wouldn't kill them, far from, but if they were too drunk to land on their feet, it could do some serious damage. Broken arms and legs took a while to heal, especially for Thorstar, who didn't have the advantage of being an Original.

Kol took a swig from his bottle. "You know, if I'd known you were going to be this boring I would've brought some women for entertainment. Or maybe chickens."

Thorstar took his hand away from his mouth. "What the Hell is fun about chickens?"

"Don't underestimate the entertainment value of chickens. You rip off the head ... "Kol made a sudden movement with his hand. " ... body keeps running. You can make them race."

Thorstar grimaced. The mental image of headless, racing chickens were somehow disconcerting. Especially in his current state.

"Hey, Thorstar, why did the chicken cross the road?"

"I don't know, "he said, swallowing back a wave of nausea. He was a bit taken aback by the odd question as he wasn't familiar with the otherwise common riddle. "Was it looking for its head?"

There was a short silence.

"How did you know?" Kol scratched the back of his head, his hat falling down his forehead to cover his eyes. Then he suddenly stiffened. "They are coming back!"

Thorstar heard the sound of several people running the way up through the tower.

When the Trinitatis Church had emptied earlier, three students had joined them on the top. They had of course tried to convince the two jesters to move back behind the barrier, until Kol had let himself fall backwards over the railing. Then they'd run down screaming, probably expecting to find his broken body on the street below.

Kol had caught himself with one hand, though, and pulled himself back up.

Thorstar frowned. "No, it's not the same people."

It turned out to be two uniformed police officers, who almost fell over each other in their haste. "Are you trying to get yourselves killed?!" one of them bellowed.

Kol shrugged. "It's not our ultimate goal, but it's a distinct possibility."

Thorstar stared at the nightsticks in their hands, appalled. "Are you going to beat us for trying to kill ourselves?"

The officer seemed about to answer, but was suddenly distracted by Kol, who rose to his feet on the narrow railing and jumped tentatively from one foot to the other. "Get down from there!"

"You know, Officer, "Kol said thoughtfully. "I'd like to do what you ask, but unfortunately my obstinate personality does not allow it."

The officer moved over to the barrier. "Look ... " he began, but Kol caught his eyes, making him cut off immediately.

"You will knock out your colleague and then yourself, "Kol compelled calmly.

"What the Hell are you doing?!" the other man was able to get out, before he was all of a sudden laying stretched out on the concrete.

Thorstar snickered at the surprised expression on the police officer's face as he hit himself over the head with his nightstick. Three times, before he finally managed to knock himself out.

"It's really not nice, Kol, "he said, still laughing a bit, though, as he had a very clear dislike of men of the law. "It could've killed them."

"Who cares?" Kol said dismissively. "Not you and definitely not me."

"As always putting your powers to good use, "came a dry voice. "You never cease to amaze me, little brother."

Thorstar saw Kol's eyes widen slightly, then turned his head to take in the sight of the young man standing in the doorway to the observation deck.

He was a bit tall and slender with short, light brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was dressed in gray wollen pants and a double breasted, black coat. He had a brown canvas bag slung over one shoulder.

His most distinct feature was his smile. It was easy and friendly, taking up a clearly familiar place on his face and lighting up his eyes.

But it was also the kind of smile that was quick to disappear.

He was regarding Thorstar with some curiosity.

"Nik!" Kol almost squealed, finally losing his footing and falling backwards over the railing, not catching himself this time.

"I guess, I won, "Thorstar called after him.

They met Kol on the street.

He twisted his left arm back into the shoulder socket, then picked up his hat and dusted it off. "I thought I told you to meet us at Lorry, "he said sourly, still looking a bit dizzy after his 110 feet free fall.

"I had to check out of the hotel before noon, "the young man explained. "I'm not that familiar with this city anymore. The only thing I could find was you."

Kol sighed then made a weak gesture. "Thorstar, my brother Niklaus. Nik, this is Thorstar."

They shook hands.

Thorstar knew they had quite a family, yes, but Kol had always been very vague whenever he spoke of them. Niklaus was the one he had spoken about the most, though, describing him as ruthless and hot-headed much like Kol himself.

But when he spoke of Niklaus as a human, it was as if he was describing a whole other person; someone who was adventurous and impatient, but at the same time compassionate and fiercely loyal to his family. Not one, who would put a brother in a box for eight centuries.

And_ that _was the man Thorstar had always wanted to meet.

"It's amazing, "Niklaus mumbled. "How much you look like your father."

Thorstar squirmed uncomfortably. "You know where he is?"

"Elijah's somewhere in America, "Kol answered almost angrily. "Neither of us know exactly where."

Niklaus' smile disappeared. "We've had a bit of a fallout."

Something told Thorstar that there was more to it than that, but he didn't ask.

"Let me take a photo of the two of you." Niklaus looked through his bag and brought out what looked like a black cardboard box.

Thorstar looked at it curiously.

"It's a Kodak Brownie, "Niklaus told him, smiling once again. He pulled out a trinket and clipped it onto the camera. "And this is a reflecting finder."

"Whatever, "Kol put his arm around Thorstar's shoulders. "Just get it over with."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: If you think this story lacks a plot ... Well, it does. I'm writing it mostly for myself, to fill in some back-story pieces.  
Anyways, this is just an ordinary walk in the park ...

Chapter 3.

Thorstar followed Kol and Niklaus to Lorry with growing apprehension. He knew from experience that Kol never attended a party, he _owned_ it. There were hardly ever room for anyone other than Kol, whether it was around a table, on the dancefloor or in an outhouse, wherever. And if his impression of Niklaus proved correct, he was no less likely to take center stage. The thought of _two _Originals in a room full of mortals was ... overwhelming.

The brothers walked side by side, chatting easily about people and occurrences that were unfamiliar to Thorstar, but he still listened intently, catching the occasional reference to a family member or historical event.

They went over the bridge, passing _Søpavillonen_ (the Lake Pavillon) and followed the street to the Ørsted Park, deciding to walk through it rather than around. On their way they met several costumed adolescents and adults in various states of intoxication.

"I really should have brought Rebekah along, "Niklaus said with a sigh. "It's been far too long since she's been away from London."

"Rebekah and drunken proletarians? Somehow, I don't see that ending very well. She's the personification of Original snobbery."

"Well, so are you, "Niklaus noted.

_'So are all of you,' _Thorstar wanted to say.

The older Kol got, the more he saw his presence as something younger vampires and humans should feel honoured by. Unfortunately, the most common feelings, he invoked, were panic and exasperation. Not that he contained enough empathy to ever realize that.

Niklaus suddenly snickered. "Remember the time at the Cafe Royal Hotel in London, where she freaked out, because a waiter spilled red wine on her favourite dress? And we cut off his head and put it in her bed with a note that said 'don't lose your head, Bekah'?"

"Surely, "Kol put a hand on Niklaus shoulder. "That was the most fun I'd had since the Summer Solstice 1136."

"Ah yes, Summer Solstice 1136, who could forget?"Niklaus asked, sounding slightly nostalgic. "The wine ... "

" ... the terror ... "

"... the smell of burning villagers."

Kol glanced back over his shoulder and laughed at the horrified expression on Thorstar's face. "You know we're kidding, right?"

"Well, now I do." He dragged his feet, feeling strangely left out. Besides, he'd had his fill of 'cut off heads' stories for the day.

As they emerged on the other side of a group of trees a tent came into their field of vision. It was a gypsy's colourful tent. Or it might have been colourful at one point, now it seemed to be sown of rags in various shades of brown and gray. It stood a bit taller than a grown man.

An elderly man dressed as a hobo ... or maybe he actually was a hobo ... stood a few paces away, swinging a bottle and yelling from the top of his lungs. "Heathens! Ungodly Heretics! Witches!"

Thorstar felt every word like a blow in the gut. Though Christians were no longer a threat to their kind, to _his _kind, they were still unrelenting in their judgment. But then again, so was every religious man and he had seen his mother and the men of his village chase missionaries out of the town at the tip of their swords. His own religion had never honoured such concepts as love or compassion, merely the glorious death in battle.

No, the value of human life was something Christianity had taught him. And it was not something he took lightly, whereas Kol had always called it 'misplaced tolerance.'

"Sod off!" Kol kicked the offending hobo towards the gravel path, but by some miracle did not kill him. The man walked off, cursing and muttering to himself along the way.

"And what do we have here?" The tent flap was drawn back and Kol went over to look inside. He was pushed back as a woman emerged. Her hair was black as raven feathers, falling almost to her waist in a single braid, and her eyes equally black. She was dressed in a wide, blue skirt and white shirt. She looked at the three young men with anything but gratitude, quite contrary she looked like she'd rather be rid of them. "Yes? What can I do for you?" she asked in a slightly accented German.

Niklaus blinked, completely lost and Thorstar was about to open his mouth to tell her 'nothing, 'but Kol held out his hand and said: "Tell me my future."

It wasn't a compulsion, she could've said no, but this was how she made her living and inspite of any misgivings she might've had, she took it. Luckily it was cold enough that she didn't notice his missing body heat.

_'This is __**not**__ a good idea,' _was Thorstar's immediate prediction as she bend her head over Kol's hand. Kol had always been drawn to any kind of magic like a vulture to a carcass.

Thorstar had been familiar with fortune tellers his entire life. When he had been human, the Vølve would be brought forward at yuletide and make her predictions for the following year. Some ate it all up, others considered it cheap entertainment. Thorstar regarded it with respect, but without any real faith. Anyone, who knew how to read nature, could predict next years harvest.

He half expected the usual nonsense, as 'you'll be rich' and 'you'll marry a beautiful woman, ' but for a moment she said absolutely nothing. Then suddenly, she spoke.

"Your life will be short, "she said hesitantly, then frowned. "No wait. Your life _was _short, but that was long ago ... "

And then she screamed, almost throwing Kol's hand aside as if it burned her. She had lifted her head and was staring at him, her eyes wide and frightened. Kol grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth, but she bit him. He cursed.

Thorstar winced, when he heard her neck break.

"Was that really necessary?" he snapped, as Kol placed the lifeless body back in the tent.

"Yes, "Kol closed the door to the tent. "Another minute and we would've had an audience."

"And what would they think? That she was a complete nutter, that's what." Thorstar crossed his arms over his chest. The nausea was coming back with a vengeance. "Everytime you kill a human you disturb the natural balance of things, Kol!"

"Well, if the natural balance was a wedding cake, then I'd be the little person on top."

"Vampires are an abomination, "Thorstar grumbled. "_Not _a natural occurance."

He felt Niklaus hand on his shoulder. "Relax, _Darwin_. Worse things than this happen every day."

AN: I hope to update 'The Descent of Man' later this week.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

The atmosphere between the three of them wasn't exactly friendly when they finally reached Lorry, but it lightened notably as they entered. The air was cloudy with cigarette and cigar smoke, which made Niklaus cough descreetly while the other two took a deep breath.

When Darwin spotted the barrel hanging on a rope from the ceiling, his mouth dropped open in horrified disbelief. "Not this again!"

Kol put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, "he said reassuringly. "I've asked around. No one actually puts a cat in the barrel, anymore."

Darwin frowned. "Then what?"

Niklaus was rubbing his eyes with growing irritation. "Babies."

"What?!"

Kol snickered. "Candies and oranges."

"Oh, right." Darwin took a look around. "I'll catch up with you later, "he said not unkindly, when he spotted a couple of young men smoking cannabis in the back.

"I'll get some beers, "Kol said, and Niklaus suddenly found himself alone with an itchy throat and watering eyes. If not used to it, vampires were extremely sensitive to smoke and to make matters much, much worse, he was almost immediately surrounded by a group of colourfully costumed children.

An about six-year-old girl in a white lace princess dress blinked her big blue eyes at him. "Hvorfor er du ikke klædt ud?*"

(*'Why are you not in costume?')

"Eh ... , "he took a couple of steps away, but unfortunately his crowd followed. "Look, what do you want?"

The children stared at him and a toddler in a clown costume with one thumb in his mouth reached up and grabbed Niklaus' hand. The boy's fingers were wet.

The Original grimaced and tried to shake the child off without actually hurting him, but the small fingers tightened their hold in a death grip. Klaus cursed and looked desperately around the room.

Where the Hell was Kol? Or the weird kid, ... what was his name? ... Darwin! He could really use either of them right now!

He tried to escape once more, hoping that the children would lose interest in him if he ignored them, but the crowd moved along with him and if anything, it seemed to be growing.

The little girl in the white dress had taken hold of his black coat and was looking up at him with overt adoration. "Du er pæn.**"

(**'You are handsome')

Niklaus pried her hand off. He didn't like small children, he hadn't even liked his younger siblings when they were small children. Small children were loud and clingy and smelled funny.

He was just about to show them his teeth and then make a run for it, when Kol finally returned with two bottles in his hands.

"What do we have here?" he said, handing the bottles to Klaus. He grabbed the toddler and swung him around easily, making the child squeal with delighted surprise. And when he started to walk over to the play area away from the drunken adults at the rows of tables, the crowd of no less than sixteen children eagerly followed him instead of Klaus.

Niklaus drew a breath of relief and immediately choked on the air, coughing uncontrollably. A couple of men with fat cigars in their hands, halted their conversation and sent him suspicious looks while slowly edging away.

Klaus sent them a tight smile. "You look at me like that again, I swear; I'll kill you much faster than a cough."

Then he nodded politely at them and they nodded back, looking puzzled.

(Break)

It was almost four o'clock, when Laurentius Feilberg took the stage in his expensice suit and called for order. "Welcome all to the Knight Hall here at Lorry!"

Thorstar snickered. He had been eating his way through almost ten of the sweet shrovetide buns and still had five more in front of him. A young girl sitting at his side tried to take one, and he gave her a warning, predatory growl.

"Excuse me!" she snapped.

"I hope you are all having a wonderful time, "Feilberg continued.

Here a couple of drunks raised there voices in an incoherent yell. Kol was among them and Thorstar snickered again. Niklaus sat between them and lowered his head and shoulders to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"Now it is time for the children to 'hit the cat out of the barrel', "Feilberg sent an ear-to-ear smile around the room, "if you will please form a line ..."

The toddler in the clown costume was second at the barrel but to his dismay, the older children kept pushing him back until he was the last in line. And there he stood, bouncing up and down with his thumb in his mouth and frustrated tears in his eyes.

Feilberg handed the bat to the first child, a rather tall and sturdy ten-year-old dressed as a pirate, and went back up on the stage. The boy hit the barrel with all his might, but only a few splinters chipped off. He went to the back of the line with an angry scowl on his face.

When it was finally the toddler's turn, he could barely lift the bat. He desperately tried to swing at the barrel (now with a few loose boards), but came nowhere near it.

A room full of adults in various states of drunk let out an amused laughter.

Feilberg smiled overbearingly. "No, you have to hit the barrel. Try again."

Apparently, that was the last straw for Kol. He slammed his beer down on the table and got to his feet. "I'll help him!" he stated.

Thorstar finally stopped snickering and his smile dropped. He grabbed for Kol, who had moved out of his reach. "Kol, don't!"

Niklaus frowned. "What is he doing?" he asked, but Thorstar just shook his head, a look of mixed horror and expectation on his face.

Kol took hold of the bat, just above the little boy's hands and gave him a brilliant smile. Then he swung it with deceitful casualness.

The barrel flew across the room and slammed into the wall breaking into pieces. Half the oranges were smashed into pulp, the other half flew about the room, one hitting a middle-aged woman, too drunk to duck, in the face.

The room went deadly silent. Feilberg was standing on the stage with an eyebrow raised as his only sign of surprise.

"Well, "he finally said, picking up the crown of golden paper from the stage floor. "I guess, we found our 'King of Cats'."

He jumped down from the stage and handed the crown to Kol, who picked up the boy and placed the much too big crown on his head. The child smiled at him around the thumb in his mouth.

There was a much scattered round of applause, while Niklaus put his head down on the table, hiding his face in his arms.

AN: In the old days, cats were perceived as evil, and up until the middle of the 18 hundreds there was an actual live cat in the barrel. If the cat survived it was allowed to run away, not that I think it makes it any less barbaric.

Anyways, hope to update 'Descent' tomorrow or Sunday.


End file.
